


Attached by the Shoulder

by rainftw



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Different approaches to conflict resolving, Eventual Fluff, Halloween, Initial Argument, M/M, well as eventual as itll get in a mere 1k words
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-19
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2020-12-24 06:26:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21094889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainftw/pseuds/rainftw
Summary: Roger is a drama queen and John just wants things to be okay.





	Attached by the Shoulder

**Author's Note:**

> i think we've established that summaries and titles arent my thing. also i always seem to post at unconventional times i dunno if its me or if its a timezone thing hihsifij anywho! enjoy<3

“Why are we in a relationship if you aren’t even going to let me touch you!” Roger screamed angrily, voice wavering at the end. John could swear he could see tears threatening to spill from his eyes. Gathering in his full eyelashes.

“Roger, you know I didn’t mean it like that.” John tried to reason. Roger wouldn’t have it.

“Spare me the excuses.” Roger huffed, taking the final step out of the living-room. Practically storming towards the door. John knew better than to follow him.

“If you would just let me explain,” John tried, as calmly as he could possibly muster, remaining in his seat on the sofa.

“Shove it!” Roger shouted from the door, before practically slamming it shut. John winced.

No matter how many times John had witnessed the same scene in the past, it hurt. The air in the room felt stuffy and claustrophobic, he felt trapped in his own skin. Useless. They’d had this exact conversation before, always ending the same way. He didn’t know how to tackle it, but _god_ did he want to resolve it. It was simple. Yet so annoyingly intricate. So important and utterly fundamental.

John found himself wondering if they were even a good match at all. Though his chest ached at the mere thought of them not being together.

He started pacing back and forth as thoughts consumed his head. So strong he couldn’t push them away with any amount of willpower, and he possessed a lot of that. John was a natural worrier, yet he also prided himself on his ability to stay realistic. It was a compromising set of characteristics, that he somehow has made work over the years. The worrying side of him seemed to win over the rationalism when it came to his boyfriend. It scared him.

It took John another fifteen minutes to realise pacing around a ten square meter room wasn’t going to lessen his worries at all. He groaned, feeling a strange urge to pull all the hair out of his scalp. He could really use a hug from Roger now.

The irony.

The paced for another ten minutes for being so dumb. Distraction his mind for just a fraction of time. One less thing to think about with the need to focus on moving his limbs.

He’d counted his 156th time walking from one far wall to the other, when his eyes fell upon their bookshelf. He walked one, two, three tentative steps towards it. Fingertips lightly running over the books, reading the titles one by one. Landing upon the one he was looking for, _The 5 Love Languages_. He sighed. Snickering quietly to himself.

He’d bought it as a joke for Roger on Valentine’s day. Which in itself was ironic, he found. As that was, in actuality, his primary form of expressing affection.

He flicked through the pages, carefully examining the contents. With somewhat of a critical outlook, it was as far as he knew. A pseudoscience. But he was _desperate_ and at this point he’d try just about anything to make it work between the two of them. So he read.

Read about the different love languages. The language of touch, service, words, time and gifts. Until he could probably recite them in this sleep. He found comfort in finding some sort of explanation for the thing he was experiencing. Even though it wasn’t a concrete solution.

When the door finally creaked open, John was on his feet within the blink of an eye. Marching his way towards the door and enveloping his boyfriend in a tight hug. As much for himself as for Roger. He felt he for once physically _craved_ the warmth seeping from his skin. John inhaled Roger’s scent from where he’d pressed his head into the crook of his neck, exhaling with relief. Relief that Roger seemed to tighten his grip as well.

“I love you.” John whispered against the shell of Roger’s ear then. The language of words. Words of affirmation. He could keep this up.

_That’s_ when Roger decided to pull back from their embrace. Looking John dead in the eyes.

“Who are you and what did you do to my boyfriend?” Roger looked deadly serious, examining John’s face. Presumably for any sign of abnormalities.

Twenty seconds of Roger prodding his face with his fingers, even checking his eyes for changes in the pupils. Or redness! As he emphasised. John couldn’t hold in the snickers. He grasped both Roger’s wrists in his hands.

“Roger, I swear it’s me.” John finally said.

“Then what’s the catch?” Roger whispered. John didn’t miss how uncharacteristic the volume of his voice was. He sounded almost vulnerable. John’s heart just about broke. Three hours was enough for him to miss the chaotic energy Roger usually always carried with him. Like an aura.

“There is none.” John said, releasing his grasp on Roger’s wrists. Running his hands up his arms to slip his coat off his shoulders. “I think I’ve figured us out.” He continued, as he closed the door and gestured for Roger to follow him into the lounge.

“That’s funny,” Roger said, the glint in his eyes coming back. Full force. “So did I.” He said, holding out a paper bag for John to see. How he hadn’t spotted that in the first place would remain a mystery.

John raised an eyebrow quizzically. Eyeing the bag up, Roger had an evil smirk on his face. He kind of wanted to explain the intricacies of the book he’d just powered through. Kind of wanted to see what kind of wicked plan Roger had come up with. The curiosity was the strongest though. He caved in.

“Go on. Show me then.”

He shouldn’t have given into his own curiosity.

He did though. That’s why he was stood, inside of a haunted house, with Roger. Dressed in a conjoined jumper. His genius idea for solving relationship problems. Not necessarily the haunted house. The jumper. But it was seasonal, and a good excuse for the excessive dumb article of clothing.

The air was cold around them, the room completely dark. No light, apart from a couple of bare candles and lanterns scattered around in no particular order. The aura of the room was, surprisingly, spooky. John wasn’t easily frightened but this was eerily realistic. He grasped Roger’s hand beneath the fabric of their jumper, running his thumb across his knuckles.

“Fuck!” Roger shrieked. And yeah, that was the boy John fell head over heels for.

“Awh baby, did that ghost scare you?” John tutted. Throwing in an excessive pet name. Simply because he felt like it. He wasn’t usually much about them.

“Shut up!” Roger attempted to walk away. But was promptly pulled back, right into John’s side. Maybe the jumper _was_ a good idea after all.

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.” John said. It was silly, but John swore he could feel goosebumps upon Roger’s skin at his words. John wrapped a protective arm around Roger’s bare waist beneath the soft fabric connecting them. To stay true to his word.

They walked the rest of the way through the house like that. Roger nestled comfortably into John’s side. John found he didn’t mind it, and that he understood Roger’s need for physical affection a lot better.

Maybe Roger _had_ read the book after all, he was sneakier than he let on.

John appreciated how content the blond looked in the crook of his own arm. He felt useful.

Half a dozen jumpscares later, they exited the haunted house. Arm in arm, giggling like school children. John felt silly and young, but in a really good way.

“Oh my god, my heart is still beating so fast.” Roger sighed, dramatically.

John giggled.

“No, really! Feel it!”

Roger clumsily grasped for John’s right hand with his left one, pressing them, palm down, to his own chest. Which was slightly clammy, John didn’t mind though.There was, indeed, a quick, flat, thudding beneath John’s hand. Quite an impressive pace.

“Whatever ghost will I have to fight for scaring my boy half to death?” John put on his best theatrical impression.

Roger giggled, pushing him slightly. In a teasing manner. Time seemed to stand still for a moment as John lost his balance, toppling over from the small gesture. Dragging Roger to the ground with him.

He was so shell shocked, that for a moment he couldn’t process anything, just staring up at his boyfriend. Who’d landed right on top of him. Knocked the breath right out of his lungs.

Then they broke out into another fit of giggles and yeah, maybe the jumper had been a good idea. John gave Roger a quick peck on the lips as a silent thank you.

“Well that, wasn’t very practical.” John concluded, well back at their flat.

“Did get you to touch me though!”

And well, John couldn’t disagree with facts.


End file.
